


My Heart is Breaking, But You Already Know How This Ends, Because You’re in the Future.

by allthetrek



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 04:42:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18843865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthetrek/pseuds/allthetrek
Summary: Takes place after the events of Disco Season 2. You’re devastated and secluding yourself in your quarters. Christopher comforts you and you help each other cope with everything that’s transpired. Also, backrubs and pancakes.WARNINGS: spoilers, angst with a happy ending.





	My Heart is Breaking, But You Already Know How This Ends, Because You’re in the Future.

You’ve shut yourself into your new quarters for two days now, relieved of duty until your injuries from the recent battle have healed. You’re aboard the Enterprise, and Discovery has disappeared, never to be spoken of again once you reach Earth and Starfleet debriefs you as planned. As far as anyone knows, the ship was destroyed, along with your friends. No, your family. You’d served with them for a long time. Now, they’re gone, erased from this time, but not this space as the only consolation to you is that somewhere out there, they are alive, and they will be okay…

Physically, you’re mostly healed up, the pieces of shrapnel you took in your ribcage now mere twinges if you move a certain way. The wonders of modern medicine. Yet, nothing seems able to console your heavy heart, which breaks every time you think about the Discovery, about what happened. You can’t even talk to anyone, because everyone you loved was on that ship, or was killed in the battle. Well, everyone but Christopher… Thank goodness you have him, though he’s been so busy coordinating the aftermath that he’s hardly had time to properly tend to you.

You don’t blame him; you completely respect that his duties as Captain must come first. He knows you’re mourning, as is he, but every time he’s tried to coax it out of you, you’ve put on a brave face and brushed it off, not wanting to burden him further. Inside though, your emotions are churning, your grief and despair reaching critical levels as you lie here in your quarters, buried under the blankets. It’s 1100 hours and you haven’t been able to get yourself up and out of bed yet. Your stomach growls, yet you don’t feel hungry. You don’t feel anything right now. Just exhausted, and alone…

A beep at your quarters barely registers through the fog of your mind. Another beep, and you mumble to the computer to grant entry to whomever dares disturb your pitiful existence. Light breaches your quarters as the doors open, the corridor’s luminescence flooding into your dim space, and you squint at the figure entering. There’s only one person it could be really, and that’s Christopher. You aren’t yet well acquainted with the Enterprise crew, save Spock, but you can feel it’s Chris’ calming, compassionate presence as he walks over to you. You’re in the same spot as when he saw you this morning, before his shift. Not a good sign…

He sits on the edge of the bed, near your torso, and you feel the mattress shift slightly at his weight. You adjust in bed and stare up at him, no words to be spoken, not right now. Christopher’s hand comes to yours, which lies limp at your side, and he picks it up, bringing it to his lips, holding it there as he leaves a long, sweet kiss on your knuckles. You mouth twitches with the remembrance of a smile and you stare listlessly at your beau, grateful for his efforts but at the moment it feels like nothing can console you.

“Can I get you anything?” Chris asks softly, searching your beautiful face for a hint of something that may help ease your pain. Even in your sad, disheveled state, you are the most beautiful thing to him, the brightest star in the nebula that is his life. He knows the choice you made just days ago, when you chose to stay in the present, letting Discovery and your crewmates travel without you to the future. Christopher knows that you chose him, this life, and that’s why you’re here aboard the Enterprise. Here, with him.

He can’t fully express his relief that you stayed with him, proving your love and commitment in the most heartbreaking way possible. Now, he’s taken care of all Starfleet’s urgent transmissions, new orders, mission reports, and his schedule is clear. He desperately needs some downtime to process everything that’s happened, and he desperately needs to be with you. You need each other right now, more than ever.

Christopher squeezes your hand, placing it gently back down, and stands up. You watch him walk to the opposite side of the bed (his side, when you sleep together), and he pulls off his boots and uniform. He folds his uniform, placing it on the large chrome bedside table. He crawls under the covers with you, wearing just his briefs, and is immediately enveloped in your warmth. You feel the temperature difference as his skin makes contact with yours; his comparatively cool skin feels pleasant, grounding. His company is very much welcome, and he doesn’t mind your passive energy at the moment, he’s just incredibly happy to be with you once again.

Christopher’s arm comes around you, and you turn over so your back is pressing tightly into his torso. Your warmth radiates across his bare skin, and his chest tightens at the thought of never experiencing this again. If you had left, and he’d lost you, along with the others… No. You’re together now, and neither of you will take that for granted, ever.

Your hand comes to meet his at your stomach and you feel him take hold of it. His comforting embrace shields you from the harsh universe outside this bed, and his sweet, caring kisses on your bare shoulder begin to break down your emotional walls. You feel his breath on your skin, and you know you made the right choice. You’ve played it over and over in your head for days now, tormenting yourself, even with the blessing of all those you cared for, loved. They understood, and they told you so. So why does it still hurt so damn much?

Hot tears suddenly sting your eyes, and your chest tightens, a tortured sob escaping your lips, and you curl into the fetal position, squeezing Christopher’s hand as you begin to cry. All of your mental anguish reaches its boiling point as the memories of those you’ll never see again flood through your mind. Christopher holds you close, squeezing your hand back, his face nuzzling against you, prodding you to continue, to let it out, and he’s right here to help you shoulder your burden. He’s here, and he’ll always be here.

You sob into your pillow, completely unaware of time passing, or of your surroundings, and even Christopher’s grip on you melts into the abyss as you set free your turmoil. Chris holds you, never wavering, never relaxing his grasp to support you, to comfort you. Finally, your sobs turn to whimpers, and those to exhausted breaths. You sniffle, wiping your tears on the pillow, coming back to reality and feeling ever so slightly lighter.

Christopher backs off a little, creating just enough space between the two of you to allow for him to stroke your back, his fingertips drifting across the fabric of your tank top. You focus on the sensation; he knows it’s one of your favorite things, and helps to calm you down. He strokes gently across your back, then down your shoulder and arm, and your skin prickles at his touch.

After a few minutes, you feel his warm hand come up under your shirt, and his fingers press reassuringly into your lower back. He gently massages you, feeling you relax more and more into his touch. The combination of Chris’ comforting presence and your physical and mental exhaustion pushes you further and further toward unconsciousness, and you slowly drift off to sleep…

*Later*

You awake, still in your quarters, and still with Christopher. You feel him beside you, relieved that you did not wake up alone. You lie there for some time, your eyes remaining closed, your body motionless, your mind empty, as though every thought has dissipated, released at last and the void a welcome change from your earlier despair. The vacancy of your mind feels lighter, and you feel more clarity. Grief has a way of clouding one’s perception, trapping you in impossible cycles of thought, loops of despair.

It will take time, absolutely, but there is a twinge of hope in you that each day will get easier. Your life with Christopher will normalize, as you adapt to your new circumstances. What is life if not change, inconsistency, even when one craves a static existence? Speaking of such, as much as you feel you could stay in this bed, this room, forever… It’s time to face reality. One step at a time.

You shift in bed, and Christopher stirs beside you, coming out of his light sleep. You cuddle up to him, and he pulls you tight against him, your head resting on his chest. You sigh into his skin, and he relishes in the sensation of your breath on his pecs.

Your stomach growls, loudly, and you can’t remember the last time you ate something. As though he’s telepathic, Christopher detaches himself carefully from you, leaning in to give you one sweet, lingering kiss on the top of your head before climbing out of your comfortable cocoon.

“I’ll be right back,” he states, as he pulls his uniform and boots back on, his hands coming to his hair and he smooths down a few stray strands of his salt-and-pepper locks. You nod up at him, and he flashes you his lopsided, dimpled smile and departs, the doors to your quarters hissing shut behind him.

You take in the emptiness with him gone, the stillness and silence, though it feels less crushing now, less haunting. Whatever infusion of comfort Christopher has given you has begun to work its magic. You’re so grateful you have him, this amazing, compassionate man by your side.

You pull yourself out of bed slowly, walking to the bathroom where you freshen up a little. You come out, still in your pajamas, just in time for Christopher to enter your quarters. He’s holding a tray of food, and sets it down on your small dining table, motioning for you to sit.

You comply, and are met with the enticing aroma of banana-chip pancakes. Sliced strawberries and whipped cream adorn the side of the heaping plate, and you catch a whiff of bergamot from the steaming mug of Earl Grey tea beside it.

“Your favorite,” Christopher states, his voice calm and reassuring, like he is the one constant in this universe that you can hold onto. You smile weakly at him, mumbling your gratitude, and grateful you are as you begin to dig into the delicious spread he’s brought you. You’re ravenous, and Christopher’s heart melts as he watches you eat, sipping his coffee as he does so.

Partway through your pancakes, you slow down a little, your body responding positively as glucose begins to enter your bloodstream, lifting your mood a little more. You piece together a perfect bite of pancake, fruit, and whipped cream for Christopher and offer it to him across the table. He smiles and leans into your fork, taking your offering, nodding his head in appreciation as he chews.

There you are. This is the you he’s used to, the one he’s falling more in love with every day. In your own way, you’re helping him cope with his own grief, with the aftermath of the ordeal he too experienced. You will support each other through this, and whatever is to come.

He would have chosen you, aboard that ship. Whatever you had chosen, his heart would have gone with you, and the rest of him would have followed. His duty to Starfleet has meant everything to him, all these years, but not until he’d met you had he realized that there was something missing all along. Sitting at this table, taking in each other’s company, there is one thing that both of you are sure of beyond a shadow of a doubt. You belong together, and nothing in space or time can tear the two of you apart.


End file.
